


The Champion

by AngryIrene



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 05:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11177574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryIrene/pseuds/AngryIrene
Summary: A trio of vignettes showing the evolution of the relationship between Fenris and Jonathan Hawke. Contains some major smut in the third chapter. Starts of very tame as a worker at the docks sees the Champion and has some Thoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!

I saw the Champion once.

It was years ago, before the world turned on its head with madness and slaughter. Even before the Champion _was _the Champion. Back then he was just Serah Hawke, the newest addition to Hightown. He had crawled his way up there by leaving a trail of blood in his wake. I think even the Coterie was afraid of the violence he could unleash.__

__Looking back on it now, I can see how the events that lead to his fame and wealth shaped us all today. Strange, how one man can change so much._ _

__I was at the docks, checking on a shipment. I'd finished my business with the harbormaster when I saw the Champion walking down the steps from Lowtown and head into the Qunari compound, for whatever reason I will never know. He was fully clad in armor, a heavy black set that he wore as if it were no weightier than Orlesian silks. Across his back was a fearsome weapon – some kind of massive hammer that I would have had a hard time lifting, let alone swinging in combat. I had never seen the man before, but I knew his reputation and immediately knew him for who he was. Hawke seemed to emanate power and danger and... well, hate. Malevolence._ _

__Beside Hawke strode an elf, the likes of which I'd never seen before. From the tattoos I would have guessed that he was one of them Dalish, but when I heard the two knife-ears beside me whispering about him, I took a closer look. Like Hawke, he was equipped with a two-handed weapon, his own a massive axe. And like Hawke, he gave off a rage and palpable sense of violence as he strode down the steps, eyes sweeping from side to side as he guarded his companion's back. But unlike Hawke, he wore almost no armor, bare feet pounding the dust as he walked. His legs and back were covered with a kind of leather, black and springy that seemed to flow across him as if it were his own skin. The only real protection the elf had was some odd kind of breast-plate and a pair of strange gauntlets. On his right wrist he wore a red strip of cloth – signifying what, I have no idea. And while Hawke had a straight-forward, powerful kind of stride, the elf seemed to glide along with a deadly sort of grace. They made quite the intimidating pair: not a soul braved their wrath as other passers-by scattered out of the warriors's way and stood gaping in their wake._ _

__I watched, well out of both the path and the notice of the pair, as Hawke strode up unflinchingly to the Qunari at the gate, who nodded and opened the wooden barrier for the man as if he were expected. That welcome from such fearsome beasts was enough to make me never want to lay eyes on him again._ _

__I watched as Hawke began to move forward, entering the compound. Unbidden, I craned my neck to keep such a fantastic presence in my sight. Before Hawke had taken two steps inside the gate, the elf reached forward to lightly touch him on the shoulder. Hawke turned, and somehow... softened. Though he was still scary as all hell, I could have sworn that the ghost of a smile graced his stern mouth. He reached out his hand and ran the red cloth at the elf's wrist under his fingers. The space between them suddenly seemed negligible, empty._ _

__But in the blink of an eye, Hawke had turned back around and strode out of my sight, followed closely by the strange not-a-Dalish elf, and I doubted my own sanity for a moment. Surely I had imagined that moment of such... intimacy, between two fearsome warriors as that. I glanced around – though many were stunned by the aura of such a man and his companion, no-one had noticed the same undercurrent I had._ _

__So I shrugged and turned my feet to Lowtown, walking up the steps Hawke had graced merely moments ago, breathing in the dust and salt air of Kirkwall before I ducked inside the Hanged Man for a pint to start of my evening._ _


	2. The Champion, 2/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trio of vignettes showing the evolution of Fenris and Jonathan Hawke. 
> 
> After Leandra's death, Fenris comes to comfort Hawke. It doesn't go great. 2/3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

Jonathan Hawke lay stretched out on his bed, fully clothed and staring at the ceiling. Beside him on the sheets rested a massive sword, glittering with a million colors, the magnificent Key that was all he had left of his long-dead father. Underneath it rested a shield bearing a crest, two red eagles embracing on a silver field: his family crest. But Jonathan ignored both heirlooms and continued staring at nothing. 

The door creaked and Jonathan did not move. A fair-haired girl, an elf, poked her head through the crack.

“Master Hawke?” she said in a quiet, tremulous voice. When Jonathan did not even lift his head, the elf at the door swallowed and continued, almost whispering, “Messere, Serah Fenris is here to see you.”

A hand lifted off the bed and a wave of a few fingers dismissed her. The door clicked behind the servant and Jonathan could hear muffled voices in the hallway as he closed his eyes. Andraste's tits, he was tired. 

He kept his eyes shut as he heard the door open again. He listened without movement as bare feet padded their graceful way across the carpeted floor. He felt a weight settle next to him, creating a dip in the bed.

“I don't know what to say, but I am here.”

Jonathan felt an inner tension release as Fenris's deep voice washed over him. All his muscles relaxed, unbuckling themselves, and he opened his eyes with a sigh. For a moment, there was silence. Then:

“Just say something. Anything,” Jonathan pleaded. A part of his brain wondered at the fragility in his voice, tried to steel his throat into its normal commanding growl, but the rest of his mind ignored the order. He wanted comfort right now, not the arm's-length disregard he treated everyone else with. 

“They... they say that death is only a journey,” Fenris began lamely, stuttering and uncomfortable. Jonathan did not respond.

“Does that help?”

Silence, then:

“No.”

More silence.

“Am I to blame for not saving her?” Jonathan asked.

“I could say no, but would that help? You are looking for forgiveness, but I'm not the one who can give it to you.”

After another long moment, Fenris stood up and took several steps to the door. 

“Fenris, please, don't leave. I don't want to be alone right now.”

Fenris settled back onto the bed with a sigh on Jonathan's left. Jonathan gave a soft snort as he realized that opposite Fenris, on Jonathan's right, were some of the only things he had left of his heritage – it was oddly fitting that they and Fenris should seem to oppose one another. 

“I cannot imagine what it must be like to lose your family. Anything I could say would be insufficient. I'm sorry,” Fenris said quietly.

“No,” Jonathan responded softly, “Nothing you say is ever insufficient.” He sat up as he turned towards Fenris and managed a weak smile, eyes bright. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Fenris stared back, a strange look on his face. “Jonathan...” he whispered, his voice strangled, “Maker, how much I want to help you. But I don't know how.”

Jonathan's smile faded. “Yes, you do,” he murmured back before looking at the ground.

He heard Fenris's intake of breath. “Is that what you want?” the elf asked quietly.

Jonathan turned suddenly, tackling Fenris and pinning him underneath his body on the bed. “What I want? What I want is to take you, right here and now, and utterly loose myself in you, Fenris. Or for you to pin me against the wall like our first glorious night together and have me, _hard _, until I come screaming in your arms.” Jonathan closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the elf beneath him and allowing himself one moment of small weakness as he nuzzled Fenris's soft hair with his nose.__

__Jumping off him and pacing away, Jonathan slumped against the wall on the far side of the bed and slid down, hands on his raised knees. “But I won't, and you won't – so we won't,” he said quietly, staring hard at the floor._ _

__Fenris did not say anything for a long moment. Jonathan continued to stare, unblinking, at the carpet, waiting for the elf to get up and leave Jonathan to his grief. He screwed his eyes shut as he heard Fenris get to his feet, determined to say nothing as he listened to footsteps walk out the door._ _


	3. The Champion, 3/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trio of vignettes showing the evolution of Fenris and Jonathan Hawke.
> 
> And it ends thoroughly happily. This is the chapter with all the smut!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

“Oh, Fenris, _fuck _,” Jonathan hissed as the elf continued his slow, exquisite torture. Fenris was slowing taking off the man's armor, one piece at a time, giving thorough attention with his tongue to each revealed area of skin as he peeled off metal and the cloth underneath.__

__“Now, Hawke,” Fenris teased, eyes dancing as he pulled back to look at Jonathan's screwed-up face, “What did I say about language?”_ _

__With a growl Jonathan shoved Fenris backwards and pinned him against the wall, kissing him so hard he felt the faintly metallic-tasting tattoos underneath his tongue. Coming up for air, Jonathan muttered, “Screw that, elf,” before biting him on the neck, hard enough to almost draw blood._ _

__Now it was Fenris's turn to growl as he arched his back, teeth bared, one hand grabbing Jonathan's brown hair and tugging. Jonathan released the elf's neck and gave a low moan as Fenris's other hand found its way to the man's groin, fondling him and stroking him hard through the thin cloth._ _

__With a chuckle, Fenris pulled harder on Jonathan's hair before running his tongue up and down the man's jaw, pushing him forward until the back of Jonathan's knees hit the bed and they both fell onto the soft coverlet. Grinning wickedly, Fenris slid down Jonathan's body and peeled off the man's pants._ _

__“I win,” Fenris whispered to the naked Jonathan, who laughed when he realized that Fenris was still fully clothed. He choked on the laugh when Fenris ran his tongue up the length of Jonathan's cock, giving the man a sharp, delicious shock. He gasped again as Fenris gleefully teased his tip, making him jump and flex his hips, willing the elf to take all of him in his mouth. But Fenris had other plans – he kept flicking his tongue around Jonathan's length until he had the man panting, almost begging. Then he took the entire cock in his mouth with one fell swoop, making Jonathan convulse. He cried out as Fenris bobbed his head up and down gently, smoothly, over and over again._ _

__When Jonathan felt himself approach the pinnacle, he reached out a hand to still Fenris's head. “No,” he growled, “Not yet.”_ _

__Fenris released Jonathan from the hold of his mouth, but continued teasing the rock-hard cock with his fingers as looked up. “Oh?” he asked, coyly. “And what if I had something to say about that?”_ _

__In response Jonathan leapt up, forcing Fenris to take a step back. The man's eyes gleamed as he said,_ _

__“Your turn.”_ _

__Practically ripping the elf's clothes off, the taller man freed Fenris's proud length from its cloth prison and grinned. Though Jonathan was taller and heavier-set man, Fenris had him beat on length by several inches. Which, frankly, Jonathan loved._ _

__Dropping to his knees, Jonathan leaned forward. Fenris stared down at him, eyes wide – it was rare for Jonathan to ever put himself in a position that could be considered lower status. But when Jonathan opened his mouth and – without preamble – deep-throated Fenris, the elf lost all pretense that the man was submitting. Jonathan was in complete control at the moment, gripping Fenris firmly and playing him like a piano, soliciting moan after moan from the dazed elf. After a short while Fenris thought he was going to faint from the sensation – and when Jonathan began to tongue his balls, he really did start to slump over. Jonathan released him and half-carried, half-guided Fenris to the bed._ _

__“Dammit, Jonathan,” Fenris murmured as the man began to rain kisses and little bites all over the elf's chest, “The whole house is bound to hear us.”_ _

__Fenris felt Jonathan's grin as the kisses began to head in a southerly direction. “You know full well that I'm louder, love.” Jonathan slid Fenris further up the sheets, gently pushing his legs apart to kneel between them before running a hand across Fenris's smooth skin. His kisses continued to travel down Fenris's belly as he kneaded the elf's ass, hands occasionally brushing between Fenris's spread cheeks just to make him squirm. As he felt Jonathan's breath rustle his pubic hair – black and silky, with a slight curl – the man's fingers pressed gently on Fenris's rosebed between his cheeks, pausing a moment before slipping one digit inside._ _

__Fenris gave a loud moan and squirmed as Jonathan slowly worked his finger in and out, deeper and deeper, until he felt Jonathan's hard mouth wrap around his cock as another finger slipped inside. Keening, his body afire with sensation, he was lost as Jonathan slowly tongued, stroked, and fingered the elf up to a fever pitch of desire._ _

__Wrapping one hand firmly around Fenris's length, Jonathan leaned forward to kiss Fenris's belly button. “You or me tonight, love?” the man asked._ _

__Oh, how Fenris loved that Jonathan did this. A blowjob and a fingerfuck at the same time, and then giving him the choice of which he would rather be, the giver or the receiver. Which sensation did he want more of, and which feeling did he want to course through Jonathan's body?_ _

__“You!” Fenris gasped. Jonathan slowly slid his fingers out of the elf's pert little ass and smiled._ _

__“As you like,” Jonathan rasped. Fenris grinned – Jonathan was hot and ready for what he had in mind. As the man laid down on the bed, Fenris rolled over and pulled Jonathan's legs up, ankles dangling off his shoulder. Licking his fingers, he slipped one inside Jonathan, who shook with the sensation. After a mere moment, Fenris added another._ _

__“Still good from last night, I see,” he said wickedly, grinning down at Jonathan._ _

__“Whereas you, elf, are tight as a Coterie contract,” Jonathan replied. Arching his back, he moaned, “I promise we'll do something about that later,” before gasping as Fenris added a third finger. The elf shivered with delight – Jonathan always made good on his promises – before withdrawing his fingers._ _

__Gripping his own cock with one hand, he poised himself at Jonathan's entrance. “Nowww,” Jonathan almost whined, voice needy and verging on begging. And Fenris complied._ _

__Jonathan gave a sharp grunt as Fenris slid inside, moving slowly until he was buried balls-deep in the man's ass. He paused, reveling in the feeling of tightness all around him, that little ring of muscle contracting around his base. He stared down at Jonathan, who had his face screwed-up with pleasure. Fenris waited until Jonathan's face began to relax, and he slowly withdrew, almost pulling completely out but leaving his head within. Again he waited for Jonathan to relax before diving back inside, faster this time._ _

__“Oh for fuck's sake, Fenris,” Jonathan snapped, “I'm not made of glass! Harder!”_ _

__“Language, Hawke.” Fenris grinned down at him before slamming himself hard into Jonathan, making both of them moan. Fenris picked up the pace, pounding mercilessly into Jonathan, who only just kept himself from screaming out with pleasure. Higher and higher they climbed, Fenris loosing himself more and more as Jonathan was swept along on a tide of ecstasy. It could have been seconds – it could have been hours. Eventually Jonathan could not hold himself back anymore – he gave a long, low moan as he came, hard, over his own stomach. Fenris watched as Jonathan convulsed in orgasm, and the sight of his lover coming undone was enough to send Fenris over the edge right after him._ _

__Collapsing on top of him, Fenris rested his head against Jonathan's shoulder and felt strong arms wrap around him. Giving a sigh, he turned his cheek to nuzzle against the soft hair spattering the man's chest. Chest hair – what a novelty._ _


End file.
